The Ancients and the Angels: Celestials

by M.C. O'Neill

  CITIZEN!

  You are under arrest. Please make no attempt to move until you are ordered by the arresting officer.

  Any attempt to resist this arrest or any attempt to molest other detainees will result in immediate corporal punishment and a possible lengthened sentence.

  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

  Following the dire news on the screen, another volley of information was splashed across the cured-elm monitor, announced by an annoying, loud beep:

  KNOW YOUR RIGHTS

  You have the right to maintain silence.

  Your words and actions here may be used against you in a Circle of Law.

  You have the full option of legal representation, regardless of resources, by a warden of counsel who will be appointed unto you if you cannot afford one.

  If you do not understand any or all of these rights, submit a request for clarification upon entering the internment facility. Multilingual translation and instructions for the handicapped are available there.

  GODS SAVE THE KING!

  These displays of due process made On’dinn feel sicker than ever; not just in his stomach, but throughout his spirit. Upon seeing those stark words on the screen, he knew he was no longer a free elf. Another matter that sunk to the central pit of his core was the fact that he could very well opt to request an execution considering his alleged capital offense. The wardens and the people would love to see that. Self-judgment enabled by the obviously guilty. What confused the elf was the exact matter of his guilt. He had no knowledge that his leader was going to try and kill a child and his mother who also happened to rule the kingdom in which he lived, but can mere acquaintance be worthy of his death, he considered? Atlantis allowed protest anywhere and to anybody by law, and as far as he was concerned, he and the rest of the Black Hood were not guilty of anything the more he thought about it. Sitting there on the hard, cured bench he hoped upon hope that this would just be an overnight stay and his innocent intentions would be investigated and he could go home in a short time. Travius, on the other hand, was a different story. That maniac fired red mana in an open forum at the High King and the Princess and there was no mistake of his charge - the attempted assassination of a royal personality.

  Minn’dre was back in her meditative state. On’dinn wished that he could be there in her head right at that moment. She seemed so peaceful and composed, unlike the tear-stained wreck she was a mere ten minutes before. Life in the moment was something she could always manage to control, as if she were the master of her very environment. The ache of the hard bench, the screeching ping of the screen and the stink of the detainees mattered not to her as she was sending her mind and spirit into another realm. Gurus and sensei and all manner of counsel would speak of such abilities, but On’dinn could never make a go of transcending the moment with any real skill to his desired reality. “Happy places” some of the less-informed would call them. No matter how often he fooled himself into believing that he could reach his inner space, he was never successful in arriving there. Not like Minn’dre. That maiden was in a zone which only severe pain could breach. How he envied her abilities in so many ways.

  “They’re going to take you away and you’ll never be heard from again!” a blithering drunk on the far end of the trailer belched as if he were congratulating himself. His disheveled state led On’dinn to believe that this was not a rare condition for the old wretch.

  “What’s to say you won’t be either?” On’dinn shot him an incensed look. It made him very angry. Being lectured by some street bum was the last thing he needed right then. Minn’dre was uncommunicative in her blissful zone and he was to be incarcerated for the utmost of capital offenses in the kingdom. Worst of all, he reeked of garbage from the fair.

  “Heh, suit yourself, but I didn’t try to kill the king.” Even though On’dinn believed that Atlantis’s meddling with Mars was provoking an attack from that planet’s locals, the people loved the little king by and large, and times were pretty good for his citizenry. On’dinn too, was rather happy with the sign of the times; he just took the political view of improving what wasn’t broken. Protests, tagging, and even a merry prank or two was all he considered with the Black Hood; activities with which he could sharpen his political skills, but assassination assignments were out of his league. If anything, he fancied the Group to be one that strove for peace and equality. Perhaps he should have listened to his uncle: If it’s not broken, don’t fix it. No, he countered. Such complacency led to stagnation and stagnation led to corruption.

  All On’dinn could do in that brig was to wait for the inevitable. Every minute on that bench he expected the trailer to lurch into movement and travel to his ultimate doom in a dungeon deep under the city. Regret was not what he wanted to feel no matter how hard the wardens and jailors were sure to beat it into him. He was much too young for such a feeling and he knew his original cause was just; Martian travel needed to be reconsidered. Travius’s insanity was not to his knowledge and, hence, not his fault.

  An unbearable length of time passed under the bright glare and the white walls of the internment trailer. He figured he was sitting there for over a half hour. The other detainees looked at him like he was an elf-sized keg of red mana fit to explode. Despite the crowd in the vehicle, the others gave him a wide berth. One of the double doors opened up and the young elf knew it called for his fate.

  “On’dinn Jak’sin and Minn’dre Harvatt?” A tall lady in a brown tunic filled the doorway. She was beaming a gigantic smile. Upon hearing her name, Minn’dre broke her trance and looked over to the source of her call. This lady wasn’t their counsel nor was she another bull or scientist. It was her and there was no mistaking it; deep, rich skin like someone from Kumari and flaming tight curls like a resident of Gonduanna. It was Sammian.

  What in the gods’ names was she doing here, On’dinn wondered? Was she some sort of agent provocateur employed by the monarchy to root out Travius? This was quite a confusing turn of events and he couldn’t figure out where it all was going.

  “Come on you kids, let’s go home!” the tall lady sang to them with overflowing joy. The rest of the trailer looked at the pair with wide-eyed confusion.

  Still cuffed, On’dinn and Minn’dre looked at each other and got up together. Sammian ordered them to turn around and before either of the teens could register it, the tight dig of their bonds was broken.

  “Okay, I just need for you to exit the vehicle slowly. No funny stuff!” Sammian’s voice was heavy with mirth as she tried to sound like an authority figure. On’dinn was beginning to wonder more and more if this was a breakout. Even though he was still confused, her tone implied that something unofficial was happening without a doubt. He decided to keep his mouth shut and go with the lady and see what was to transpire.

  Once the trio was outside, the line hoping to exit the Kumari pavilion was still snaking its way beyond eyeshot. The wardens had a long night’s work ahead of them. On’dinn supposed that he could have been waiting in that trailer until morning at that rate. Sammian’s intentions of his release were still unknown to him, but at least he was off that hard bench and the cuffs were no longer cutting into his wrists.

  Sammian sauntered past the wardens in the cordon. They all looked a bit dazed and just stared at the three like reverent zombies. Not one of them was trying to stop or seize them. Perhaps this was indeed official business, On’dinn considered?

  “Thanks a lot guys! See you later and keep up the good work!” Sammian chirped to the armored cadre as if they were her employees getting ready to leave the job for Wintersfest break. She even patted one bull on his hulking ivory chestplate.

  On’dinn and Minn’dre looked at each other and gave knowing looks. Something was not at all right with the wardens’ behavior. None of them responded to the lady and their movements were entirely too slow, as if doped. On’dinn wondered if she somehow drugged them. Maybe with an ampoule? He had the sinking feeling that the frying pan had given way to the fire. Minn�
��dre looked at him again to imply that they should be careful and On’dinn nodded to her in silent agreement.

  “Well, guys, how was that for a jailbreak?” Sammian’s gaiety was still evident in her voice.

  “Uh, thanks!” On’dinn broke his silence.

  “Don’t mention it,” Sammian was leading the pair out of the pavilion’s gates and they were all soon free of its confines only to be met with the lights of downtown Corosa ahead of them.

  “So, where to now?” Minn’dre was attempting to reinstate her authority which she had enjoyed with the Black Hood. She liked the situation less than On’dinn and was also confused as to the nature of their release. She figured that taking the reins of this encounter was the best policy.

  “Well, I don’t know about you guys,” the brazen lady began with a giggle. “But I am famished! I could eat a rhinoceros! Any suggestions where we could get one at this hour?”

  The Sea and Shell was open twenty-four hours, but their food offerings were rather limited, Minn’dre thought. After being released from the clutches of the ADF on attempted assassination charges, visiting her workplace was the last thing she wanted to do. More than anything, she wished to go home and sleep for days in order to stave off the stress of that night but she knew deep down inside that Sammian was not about to let that happen.

  “Ahem…,” Minn’dre began to collect her nerves. “We could always try the Sea and Shell. They’re still open, but I doubt rhinoceros is on the menu.”

  “Sure, whatever. Lead the way.” Sammian seemed disinterested in the answer to her query, which Minn’dre found strange, but she beckoned the teens ahead of her, nonetheless. Perhaps it was a good time to make a break for it, Minn’dre wondered? This lady was an odd one and she exuded an aura of some kind of darkness that neither of the two could pinpoint, nor wanted to.

  The pair walked ahead of the ominous elf lady and looked at each other. They wished they had the ability to read each other’s minds so that they could devise a plan in silent conspiracy to be rid of their freakish savior. Minn’dre winked at her friend a sign of collusion. On’dinn smiled back; this was going to be good.

  As the three treaded with awkward silence in the direction of the Sea and Shell, Minn’dre broke it, “Say, you know something, eh, Sammian, correct?”

  “That’s my name!” the tall lady sang as she wore a now-blatant phony smile.

  “I don’t believe that the Sea and Shell is open tonight. Eh, on account of the king’s address, you know,” Minn’dre was quite pleased with her cover story. This was going to be an easy out for them, she was sure of it. She looked over again at On’dinn and gave him another wink.

  Still behind them, Sammian announced, “Oh, that’s all very well, you stupid little fishies. I don’t really need to eat food anyway.”

  For just an instant, Sammian’s odd response to Minn’dre’s lie registered to the young elves and they looked at each other again with a mixture of fear and conundrum. The exact nature of what she had just said eluded them both and they wondered for an instant what indeed it was. They never got their answer, but rather a sharp bolt of pain to their heads. Then their world went black.